Who am I?
by burn my mind
Summary: What if Dan wasn't Gossip Girl? What if the anonymous blogger was somebody else that we all know, love and hate? A drabble is dedicated to each character being Gossip Girl. Drabbles\One-shots.
1. Dedication

**Dedication to Count On Me.**

This fic would not be possible without the help of my _beautiful_, _talented_, _wonderful_, _darling_, _amazing_, _extraordinary_ friend. She also goes by Emma. Her own fic _What If? _inspired this and if you haven't already checked it out then I suggest that you do so because oh my god it is the most beautiful thing in the world. Emma, I love you so much and I just want to thank you over and over for inspiring this. She is one of the most talented people I have ever been able to meet, talk to, etc. She is wonderful and I just want to thank you once again.

Please, go check her out, you won't regret it. I've stolen about a million ideas from off of her fic _What If? _and her, of course. Just to name a few, the premise of the fic came to me while I was reading\conversing with her _What If? _and watching season one episodes\season two episodes and pointing out things that make sense and make no sense about Dan being Gossip Girl. The idea of each chapter being another universe, or something along the lines of that is entirely credited to her.

Updating once a week, writing a lot beforehand, all goes to her. Everything goes to her except for the writing and actual plot line because while that was inspired by her (the plot.) it was my **original **idea. I just _have _to get that across. I love you Emma! And thank you so much! I dedicate this to you, this is all for you.


	2. Nathaniel Archibald

**Title: **Who am I?

**Summary: **What if Dan wasn't Gossip Girl? What if the anonymous blogger was somebody else that we all know, love and hate? A drabble is dedicated to each character being Gossip Girl. Drabbles\One-shots.

**Authors Note: **This idea popped into my brain and I couldn't _not _write it. My plan is to write each character before submitting it, one chapter per week and then everyone can feel free to request characters to see. If they would like to. I'm writing this in my new writing style, so drabble like quality I guess. Um, this will all be set in different universes but everything's canon up until CB's wedding in the finale unless stated otherwise.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, except maybe, just maybe, Chace Crawford.

* * *

**NATHANIEL ARCHIBALD**

* * *

You stare at your friends, their mouths slightly agape, their eyebrows furrowed, a very pregnant blonde fuming.

You look sheepishly towards the ground, nervous shuffling.

You hadn't _meant _to be Gossip Girl for so long.

You had started it as a joke, a small silly prank, if you will.

A way to express the feelings you had towards Serena with the world, in a secret, slightly disturbing way.

Blair's the most pissed,

But.

It's not fair, she sent in more than half of the tips you used.

She was just as responsible as you were.

You're sitting in a chair at the Bass Townhouse, palms sweaty, frown lines itched deep into your face.

_Everyone _is here.

It's to mark Henry's first year of being human.

Being alive.

Being here.

And Blair _hates _you.

And Chuck, he _hates _you.

And the love of your life, she well, she probably hates you too.

Dan, he doesn't look _that _mad.

Little Jenny Humphrey just looks _sad_.

Your mother looks disappointed, your grandfather shocked and your father mad.

Jack is smirking.

Saying something about how he never knew you had it in you.

And,

It _disgusts _you how you've treated these people.

These people you call friends,

You call family.

And you let out a groan because _what have you done?_

You've helped ruin lives.

Blair, she _lost _her baby because of you.

(And your cousin Tripp.)

Your pretty blue eyes float towards Serena.

Her stomach is round, huge and inside of it is _your _child, heir, spawn.

Henry yawns, balls his hands into tiny fists and smiles as he dreams peacefully.

After his birth you, Gossip Girl, had gone softer.

Gossip Girl was like another identity, another persona.

You were Norman Bates pretending to be Norma Bates.

Nate wasn't Gossip Girl,

Gossip Girl _was_ Nate.

You don't really have concrete reasons to why you were the mastermind behind the whole ordeal, you just were.

It started one day out of the blue - a day spent smoking pot, getting high and dreaming about a long-legged blonde at a certain Bass's suite as that certain Bass entertained a green-eyed beauty in the other room.

Blair had called you up, shrieking, laughing, _mortified_ with some news of Serena.

Your fingers had lazily flown across your laptop, typing up some story under a fake name, an alias.

You had felt _cool_, a bit like James Bond, or an undercover cop.

And before you knew it you were sending it to everyone in _Nate's _contact list under Gossip Girl's email.

You were too high to care, too high to think.

Even now, years after being this brilliant mastermind you wonder how you did it.

You got away with _so _much.

You had caused _so _much pain but so had they.

You look at every face in the crowd: Dan, Jenny, Rufus, Lily, Eleanor, Cyrus, Harold, Roman, Blair, Chuck, Henry, Serena, Jack, Georgina, Dorota.

Every single one of them had sent in a blast - with the exclusion of the little one.

All of them were as equally responsible as you, all you had to do was type up some witty blast.

It's funny, really.

You had been ignored, placed in second, forgotten about, for all these years and you were pulling the strings the entire time. You were the puppeteer and these, these people were your puppets.

"How could _you_?" You hear your girlfriend cry, a hand flies up to her forehead dramatically.

Her free hand rubs her swollen belly as she shakes her head, Blair, well she pats her best friends back and whispers soothing words in the blonde's ear, along with horrible words about you.

You open your mouth to speak,

No words come out.

"I don't know how!" You snap - _every _eye is on you.

You suddenly feel hot, you need fresh air, an escape.

And,

You want to run. For once you want to be like Chuck, just pack up and leave, run without caring.

But then you've always sort of wanted to be like Chuck.

"I'm sorry," You hear yourself say, the words escaping past your mouth easily.

They sound like honey.

It's not enough but you were born into this world.

So they forgive you after a week.

They forgive you after a month.

They forgive you when their water breaks and they're in pain.

They forgive you when their son learns to walk.

They all forgive you.

Your Nate _Archibald_, you're related to the _Vanderbilt's_.

It's a scandal but they forgive you anyway.

It's always the case.

They hate you for a while and then they come running back, gushing about how stupid they were and how they never want to be apart from you but you still spend your whole life proving your worth.

"But it doesn't matter anymore, sweetie!" Serena cries when she's eighty-three and you're still going on about how you had ruined all their lives.

The guilt, it never really fades.

"I still hate you," Blair will hiss time to time, a small smile itched on her face and you'll laugh and tease her that she's just mad because you had known about Chuck and Blair longer than you had let on.

(That blast that Chuck sent wasn't the only one you had gotten regarding Blair with someone else, with a certain Bass.)

You had known about everything longer than you had let on.

You close the site down, erase everything ever written on it.

Gossip Girl, she no longer exists.

But she does because she's apart of you.

You'll deny it, she's just another persona, a role you decided to take on but she's there.

Always lurking, itching to be released.

And, Erik, the only person not present during the reveal calls you up late that night after the big reveal.

It was splashed all over _The Spectator _after you broke the news to the ones it affected the most and the ones you love most.

He's not even _mad_.

And sometimes you find yourself typing up a blast and then deleting it. Annie, she'll pull on your sleeve and beg you to go and play with her outside.

* * *

**A\N: I don't even know what this is, it's all complicated and jumbled up and doesn't even make sense but I like it so yeah. Feel free to suggest ideas, people you want to see. I have about six more typed up waiting for editing.  
**


	3. Dorota

**Title: **Who am I?

**Summary: **-

**Authors Note: **This is who I actually wanted to be Gossip Girl. FYI, if anybody's wondering, I do write these top ones before I write it and the bottom ones afterwards, like the Author's Notes. But, when these are actually posted and I get reviews *hint hint* I'll add a small snippet of thanks in here! Haha, so thanks for the _fantastic _response. This was supposed to be the first one I were to post but I liked Nate's better.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

**DOROTA**

* * *

Miss Blair had walked in on you at the laptop when she was trying to say goodbye.

Your hands, they were typing furiously away, creating a story on the Gossip Girl page_. _Some scandal about Lonely Boy and Serena.

You hear a sharp intake of breath behind you, spinning around to find Miss Blair standing there. Eyes wide.

"You- _You're_ Gossip Girl?" And Miss Blair, she doesn't even sound _mad_. She laughs, she laughs, she laughs!

You don't know why she walks out of the room at first, her laugh filling up every spare space of the Waldorf household.

And, you don't even shut down the site.

When Miss Blair comes back from her honeymoon, she asks you, begs you too.

She wants a world free of Gossip Girl when her baby is born - you squeal as she announces the news and you shut down the site, quietly.

Nobody has to know that it was _you_.

You could be fired, no chance of never getting another job and the Waldorf's, you don't even want to think what will happen when their name is tarnished because of your exploits.

They all wonder who it was, they take guesses from time to time.

And, Blair and Chuck, they just simple smile.

Never a glance in your direction, you know they love their friends but you also know that if they ever have a fall out, another explosive fight, then they'll all probably tell.

You don't really feel guilty in the end.

And nobody _really _hates you.

Blair, she stops telling you secrets.

Blair, she always asks if the site is dead.

Blair, she's always worried.

And even though you know it was your fault for a lot of things, you don't feel any hint of remorse.

Except a little bit.

You wouldn't have started it if you didn't think you would feel guilty.

Wouldn't of kept going if you felt guilty.

And, you did shut it down after the accident.

Chuck, he asks you one night when Henry is tucked into bed and Blair is sleeping peacefully upstairs _why _you started Gossip Girl.

"Miss Blair, she was upset. She complain not know anything anymore. Everybody knows before her. I thought well what if everyone knew at the same time? Miss Blair, she tell me a lot of secrets-" Chuck, he cuts you off with a smile and a shake of the head.

"Dorota, you don't need to call her Miss Blair any more." He states, shaking his head and you smile because even though you had wronged them all, they still love you, they still forgive you.

Miss Blair, she loves you.

And Mister Chuck, he loves Blair.

And you guess late one night that's why they haven't kicked you to the curb.

You tell Vanya a few years later.

You're almost as nervous as you were when you were pregnant with Ana.

He leaves.

For a day, for a week, for a month, for a year, for two years.

But he can't stay away forever.

He comes back after a month, bearing flowers and apologizes.

You laugh, he had nothing to be sorry for.

You being the anonymous blogger that basically stalked teens put a strain on your relationship.

But.

Vanya, he loves you.

You make a final post somewhere around the time the last Bass child is heading off to Yale.

It's about how _we_ had all made it out in the big, bad world.

You forgot how thrilling it was to pretend as if you were one of _them_ and not just the Waldorf's maid.

Blair, she visits you in tears after that because she finally understands.

You just wanted to be her friend.

You just wanted to be her _friend._

You admit that it was stupid, dumb, silly.

You were a princess to a maid to a gossip blogger that ruined lives.

It wasn't just you though.

It was everybody, all you did was post and word and press send.

* * *

**A\N: I think I could of made this better. I don't really like it. ****  
**


	4. Jack Bass

**Title: **Who am I?

**Summary: **-

**Authors Note: **I've always secretly wanted Jack to be Gossip Girl. Don't ask me why, I just thought it would be cool for him to be revealed as Gossip Girl, that being said here is the next installment to this fic. Thank you for all the feedback! I've stopped writing for this fandom for a variety of different reasons. I will only be updating this because all the chapters have been written before I even published this. I'm not sure how many I have in my drafts, this will still be updated once a week.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

**JACK BASS**

* * *

You've been envious of your big brother from the very start.

His riches, his women, his whole life.

And Evelyn, Elizabeth, whatever her name really is.

Bart, he stole away the love of your life.

And they had a _child _together.

A perfect, beautiful, little boy.

You had scoffed when you saw him, saw the love of your life lying on the bed.

Dead.

_He _had killed her.

From that day on you had made it your life mission to ruin Charles. _Charles_, you snicker.

You see him again when he's five years old and he demands that you call him Chuck.

They move to New York the next year where _Chuck _quickly befriends a blonde boy, a brunette girl and a blonde girl. They're all starting school a year late because apparently rich kids can afford to miss the first year of school.

You teach him how to drink, how to smoke, introduce him to drugs, women.

And then he tells you something funny that happened to his friend Serena.

And BAM!

The idea rushes towards you, Gossip Girl.

A website where you can reveal all the dirty Upper East Sider's secrets.

You stay in NYC until it picks off, then you pack up and leave back to Australia, that is.

You don't tell anyone.

You would lose your power and you soon find yourself falling in love with this persona you had created, this world you had created.

You had fooled _everyone_.

Tips flood in, your fingers type in words and you press send.

All those dirty secrets are revealed.

You're an evil mastermind.

And you're easily destroying Chuck.

You laugh with delight when something about him floods into your inbox, when he sends something in.

And then you get the best tip of your carer: **B **has slept with not just one but two guys.

Sent in by your lovely Nephew.

And you _know _that he was probably the other guy.

Virginal B was a "slut" according to Gossip Girl's terms.

You don't post anything about Chuck in the post, the truth would unravel itself in due time.

You watch him squirm, you watch him crack, you watch him break.

You love _e-v-e-r-y _single second of it.

But then it all goes to hell.

Chuck, well he finds out after Blair's in that accident.

He screams, yells, slaps you, punches you, kicks you.

(As soon as he's healthy enough that is.)

And you forces you to shut down the site, so you do.

In return for him telling _no one _including Blair.

He keeps his mouth shut but you think he might have forgotten.

He had been on a lot of pain meds.

After he gets back from his honeymoon you slowly approach him on the subject.

He looks at you with a confused frown,

"How would I know who Gossip Girl is? It's probably some teen who wants to be one of us."

And you thank your lucky stars.

But.

You fall in love with Georgina Sparks.

(A stupid, stupid, _stupid_ mistake.)

And she figures out that it was you all along.

She's as devious as you are, she had taken over after the accident but she decides to send this information into every single newspaper.

You lose all your power.

And you've only really ruined Chuck a little because in the end he got it all.

Instead you're the ruined.

You had relied on Gossip Girl for so long and now it was all _gone_.

You were Jack Bass for crying out loud!

Jack fucking Bass!

That meant that you were better than everyone else and yet you end up as the lonely one.

The _lonely boy_.

You scoff, pour yourself some liquor and drink it all.


	5. Serena van der Woodsen

**Title: **Who am I?

**Summary: **-

**Authors Note:** This may be one of the most realistic or unrealistic ones depending on how you view things. I totally forgot to post this. Does anybody want me to just post everything in one go? I'm not writing the rest of them anymore so that's always an option instead of waiting for these.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Except Chace Crawford, that's a given fact.

* * *

You just wanted to feel some sort of pain, some sort of humiliation, some sort of hurtful feeling.

Blair stuck her finger down her throat. (You had caught her one to many times, she had brushed it off saying that she doesn't need _help_, so you had left her alone until you realized that she was slowly killing herself.)

Nate he got high. (Sometimes you got high with him but it never really made you feel pain, it just took all those bad thoughts away and you wanted to feel _something_.)

Chuck he drank himself into oblivion and fucked everything that moved. (You did that a lot too, never with the devil himself though. You wouldn't stoop that low and sometimes it made you feel something, anger, lust, but it was never good enough.)

Erik sliced his skin. (You found out about this years after you had developed a way to hurt yourself and you had cried for weeks, blaming it all on yourself. He was your _baby brother_ and he was just like you.)

You had just slept with some investment banker, thirty three years old and married - it was _illegeal_. You were fourteen years old, it was practically rape but you didn't care as you slipped out of his grip, gathering your clothes from off of the floor.

And that's the moment it hit you, as you looked around the hotel room. You could create a website where you could make mold yourself to look like whatever you desired.

Something that would get you hate, cause you pain.

You had practically ran home, flagging down a cab, sprinting through your building.

You had grabbed your laptop from off your bed and had made a website. It was easy, Blair had taught you how for Digital classes. The first thing you had to do was to make a scandal, something you could post about.

The next day it happened.

And soon enough your website was a legend, a thousand tips rolling into the inbox. Most were about you, some about your friends, most were sent in by Blair.

It caused you pain, you cried yourself to sleep each night but it was what you wanted and that made you the slightest bit happy.

You realized with a start late one night, before the Shepard wedding what you were doing.

You weren't just inflicting pain upon yourself but upon others.

And then you slept with Nate, beautiful, blonde, blue eyed Nate who you had been in love with since day one.

You blamed half of this on him, the two of you had shared a few stolen kisses for years, dreams about being together before he went off and practically _married _Blair.

And Blair, she was a bitch. This was sort of her fault too.

And then you had killed a man.

And you ran, ran, ran.

You felt _too _much.

You longed for the days where all you wanted to feel was pain, before this whole Gossip Girl fiasco had been started by yours truly.

But you couldn't just shut down the site, you were a leader, you had a following.

Damien Daalgard mentioned the site when he was helping you study at Boarding School.

"That Gossip Girl site is like a fucking cult," He had breathed, shaking his head violently.

You had chewed on your bottom lip, had let him do your work and then partied until you couldn't feel anything anymore.

You kept it all up, the facade.

Georgina, she took over and then she sent it to you.

You had even talked to Blair about it, revealed Gossip Girl's identity without even revealing it.

You had stolen the fucking laptop off of yourself.

You were crazy, insane, high off of this drug.

It didn't hurt you anymore though.

And then Henry was born into the world and _everything_ changed.

That baby couldn't be born into a world where people gossiped and lied.

You shut it down quietly and even to this day nobody knows it was you.

* * *

**A\N: This is my favorite piece so far. I think I might be in love with it.  
**


	6. Jennifer Humphrey

**Title: **Who am I?

**Summary: **-

**Authors Note: **This is one of the earliest ones I ever wrote. Thanks for all the feedback. So sorry for the (very) late delay. I was going to wait another week to post it on a Tuesday but I guess a Wednesday will have to do. I totally forgot, I'm stressed to the max and several other very important and big things are going on in my life that I won't bore you about but even though all chapters are pre-written sometimes I get tired and forgetful.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

**JENNIFER HUMPHREY**

* * *

You had heard all the stories about them, the beauty, the recklessness of it all.

You were 12 years old and you wanted to be just like them.

You wanted to dress up in Dior, spin around in four inch heels, apply glitter to the corners of your eyes and party until sunlight floods through french doors.

Dan had mentioned in passing something some of the girls at his sister school were talking about, _"Serena, blonde hair, white dress, drenched_._" _A flurry of the hand and he had gone onto another topic.

You had sat down at the old beat up laptop that Dan owned and made a website.

You had chewed furiously on your bottom lip as you dealt with HTML coding and what not, sighing when it did not go as planned.

And then, viola!

A site had been created.

Gossip Girl had been born.

You molded yourself as one of the elite, dressing, talking, as one of them.

You knew the ins and outs of fashion, so you could play that bit of the role easily.

Dan mimics the girls at his sister school all the time and you go to school with a few snotty brats yourself.

You posted the first blast.

_"S and White Dresses: Not a good mix."_

Dan had found out after you posted that blast of you and Nate, kissing.

You had spilled every secret, every lie out to him and he didn't tell a soul.

He helped you if anything.

You had created an empire out of hurtful Gossip.

You told Erik while the two of you were in London, sometime after Bart Bass had been dead for the second time.

He, well, he told _everyone_.

He was your best friend but you had blogged about his sister to the point where it had destroyed her.

And now you sit in your apartment all alone,

Having been shunned by everyone.

Blair, she had called you up and yelled at you for hours on end.

"How could you? I knew you were no good to begin with! But Gossip Girl, really?" Her rant went something along the lines of that. You don't really remember, you were half drunk and she was talking so, so, _so _fast. Her words meshing together.

You run a hand over your bedspread, silk, white, innocent.

You were anything but.

Your dad though, Rufus, you shut your eyes willing the memory to vanish from the world.

But.

You replay it every night in your head like a bad dream.

He _hated _you more than anything. You can still hear his voice, the disapproving tone, the overpowering _sadness_.

You would rather him to yell and scream at you and be _angry _at you.

You close down the site, you don't really have any power any more.

You drink yourself into oblivion, stay away from NYC, away from the UES, away from Brooklyn.

You just stay away.

Erik moves back to New York, after the impending nuptials of his sister and your brother are announced.

You remember the feeling when you first started the website.

The thrill, the excitement, you were twelve fucking years old and people were sending in things about how Penelope had slept with her Graphics teacher for better grades.

And you had clicked send without a second thought.

You had admired Serena, loved Blair, craved Nate, detested Chuck and were slightly annoyed by your brother, at first.

All you wanted was to be like them, reckless, wild, crazy, free and then all of a sudden you were.

You were Gossip Girl, you sipped on dry martini's and spent summers in the Hamptons.

Then your father was marrying Lily and you were living in a penthouse, being showered with designer clothes and make up and all these gifts you had longed to have since you were an innocent, a child.

You had made sure that you and Gossip Girl weren't the same person, that the lines didn't blur.

You still had to post about yourself, you had to carve yourself into someone so people would see you and so people didn't suspect you once you were _in_.

You now spend your nights at London bars, avoiding newspapers and the news like the plague.

"Jennifer Humphrey, rising fashion designer was the infamous blogger of NYC's socialites secrets."

Your carer hadn't got shot to hell yet, you thank every single god you can think of for that fact.

(You aren't religious but the fact you still have a chance in fashion is a miracle.)

Dan still calls, still talks to you, still makes you laugh.

And Erik, he comes around and you forgive him.

You're twenty three when you finally apologize, three years after the explosive bomb had gone off.

Your dad forgives you at last, he engulfs you in his arms and holds you like your a little girl.

He squeezes you tight and promises to never let go.

Blair, she purses her lips and finally relents. She offers you a job at Waldorf Designs, you scream, you squeal and you thank her until your throat is dry.

"Be on your best behaviour, Little J. I still haven't forgiven you for _anything_." And then she's off and your life has worked out like you had always wanted it too.

* * *

**A\N: I honestly think Jenny being GG is one of the most unrealistic things. She would of been 12 when she started it, although I think she would be the same as Dan. Same reasons and a slightly harsher outcome.  
**


	7. Blair Waldorf

**Title: **Who am I?

**Summary: **-

**Authors Note: **I've realized that these will most likely be OC. I also sort of like dealing with the fact that it may be a different person to the actual blogger. I keep forgetting to update, oops. No hate about how this isn't in character please.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

**BLAIR WALDORF**

* * *

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You weren't _damaged_.

The doctor strings a whole list of letters together to make up a fancy name for what you have.

But it's simple.

You have this whole other identity, a whole other side to you - that you didn't know existed.

_You _are - _were_, you correct, Gossip Girl.

You had destroyed others lives with Gossip.

Chuck, he had walked in on you typing away at a blast late one evening.

And,

With one simple glance he knew that it wasn't _you_.

"Blair?"

You respond to that name, it's your name.

You cry, you shake, you shiver, you scream.

What they were saying could _not _be true.

Serena, she cries with you.

Mumbling that she doesn't care that you were Gossip Girl.

Nate, he looks confused.

Murmurs that it wasn't really _you_.

Dan, he sits with you in the Hospital sometimes.

You ask him not too because he had hurt your friends and _you _(but you had been hurting them all for years.) this past year but he explains that he understands what you feel.

You don't question him.

Your mother and father find out, so does the Herald and the Times.

It's all over page six.

Chuck, he's with you every step of the way.

Girls, they sneer.

Boys, they cheer.

You pull the finger at them and threaten them with knowing all their secrets.

It makes sense that it was you.

All you ever wanted was control, pushing your finger down your throat is proof enough.

And with this website you got to control others.

You kill it. Not delete it all together.

No, you let it sit there and rot but no new blasts appear.

Gossip Girl, she's dead.

You wish you had remembered being her, why you were her.

You grasp at straws, trying to come up with ideas of _why_. You find none.

You sit on the bed, cross legged, at Ostroff. You wear a red bow in your hair - not on a headband.

You and Chuck play cards, poker, go fish.

The two of you have sex on the bed.

On the floor.

On every surface.

It's just you trying to have them kick you out. You're ashamed by the fact that your husband and you had, had sex on private property in front of cameras at a _mental _ward.

"Mental is a bit dramatic, Waldorf." Chuck teases.

You don't correct him on the form of your last name. You know he's doing it to wind you up.

The two of you plot and plan to get you out of there.

You didn't belong there.

Just because you were _Gossip Girl_.

You decide that you like being in control a year after you're released.

You re-open Gossip Girl, under your name of course.

You decide to turn it good, just like Serena had apparently _tried _(and failed.) to do.

You kill it for good once your daughter is born.

Jenny comes to you out of the blue one day and thanks you for _ruining _her life.

You had to admit it but you had missed the blonde.

She had that same spark that you had - that you _have_.

You hire her as a designer for Waldorf Designs.

Years later it all comes back to you,

The days were you were the world's most notorious blogger.

It starts in small snippets, flashes, words appearing in your mind, certain objects.

Then it floods you in actual memories, scenes if you will.

And you cry because the girl you see in the memories aren't you.

You've always had an evil part, a devil part but this part of you was pure evil.

It was _your _fault that your daughter died.

You had posted it on your site.

But it wasn't really because it was Tripp's fault.

But then it was.

* * *

**A\N: This might of been the funniest to write but I'm not to pleased with the outcome. Feedback, please? I'll give you cookies c:  
**


	8. Georgina Sparks

**Title: **Who am I?

**Authors Note: ***insert thanks here* Inspired by a Georgina focused one shot I read on here, **Forgive Me, My Love **by **Arquellania **and I swear to god it's one of the most ah-mazing things I have _ever _read. Georgina is my all time favorite character, you don't understand the love I have for her. I'm warning that this may get deep and heavy.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, nothing is mine.

* * *

**GEORGINA SPARKS**

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You guess that it starts and ends with Chuck.

He wasn't your first but he was the first one that counted, business partners of your fathers, widowed husbands of your mothers friends, your uncle Gregory, your cousin Timothy, they didn't count.

Your uncle had taken your innocence away from you when you were just a child. No more than nine years old.

After that it was late nights spent fucking Timothy, throwing everything away to get into bed with older men.

They didn't seem to mind, they thought there was something alluring about you.

Your eyes, your lips, your nose, your skin, your thoughts.

And then you slipped into a broom closet with Chuck and took away his innocence.

You were eleven - no twelve.

It was quick, over and done with, a way to escape from the real world.

And, you fell head over heels in love with that brown haired brown eyed scarf wearing boy who sauntered around school, a cocky smirk on his face.

And you would drag him into closets, into the teachers lounge late at night, into an empty classroom.

Anywhere, everywhere.

And he would refuse, push you away and scoff with disgust.

You were just a piece of dirt on the bottom of his loafer.

You _hated _him.

You _loved _him.

You watched him become a ladies man, a womanizer, quirking eyebrows upwards, leaning in to whisper in their eyes, touching their hair lightly.

The rumors started circulating, your eyes would get bigger, would start to water.

And then you fucked your cousin again, until you forgot everything.

You be friend Serena in hopes of gaining Chuck back, back in your bed.

You had slept with him a total of fives times, had coffee dates a total of eleven and listened to him moan about his best friend and his best friend's girlfriend while he was drunk twice.

It's not until after your friends with Serena, getting high and drunk on weekends and teaching her the basics of sex until you get the idea.

_A website where you spill every filthy brat's secrets. _

They all hate you anyway, you're only tolerated because you're a Sparks.

"You're worse than Chuck," Snow White sneers, turning away on her heel and running back to Prince Charming.

It was like clockwork.

Chuck stared at Blair with that puppy dog longing in his eyes, that pathetic puppy dog longing. Always wanting what he couldn't have, Serena beside him staring at Nate with the same longing, Nate staring back at Serena out of the corner of his eye and the Queen oblivious to it all.

You spent every waking moment building your empire, spilling secrets - a few of your own.

(Daddy's brother's son makes a fantastic bed partner of **G**.)

You made everybody turn on everybody, then you made them friends again.

They were your puppets, you the puppeteer.

And then the blast about Blair came in from Chuck.

You weren't an idiot, Chuck had always loved her from afar.

Chuck had sent in the blast.

Chuck was _Chuck_.

You decide that you would wreck even more havoc on the Upper East Side.

And so you do, not just that year.

But year, after year, fake innocence, after fake innocence, scandal, after scandal.

You didn't ever stop, expose secrets, be Georgina, expose some more.

And then Phillip found out.

And you had to pretend as if you _weren't _really Gossip Girl.

Then you shipped it off to your old blonde friend.

And then you don't even know what happened, everything was a complete mess.

Even you couldn't keep up with the drama.

And then Chuck was at your doorstep, drunk as ever and you had pulled him by his bowtie.

That stupid boy was soon on your bed, soon underneath you, atop of you, in you and you could feel nothing but pain.

He was the first - and last - person you had ever loved.

"I love you," It's a whisper and you know it startles him, he's buttoning up his shirt and acting as if nothing happened.

"I love you," You say louder, he doesn't turn around. He just leaves, back to his Empire, back to his hotel.

His wife, Blair,

(You always sneer her name in disgust, utter disgust.)

had left him the year before something about needing time out.

Henry visits him every few months or so, you know because you know everything.

And before you know it you're racing down the busy streets of New York and up towards the Empire.

Up towards the Penthouse and that's when it hits you: He'll _never _love you.

Stupid Snow White is getting into the elevator, bags in tow, Henry holding her hand.

The blasts get ugly,

(_Chuck fucks blonde, Blair sleeps with Prince, Chuck drinks until he's sick, Blair does drugs, Chuck tries to commit suicide, Chuck, Chuck, Chuck, _Chuck.)

And you end it one night because you realize that hating him will get you no where.

And so with a bitter laugh, you shut Gossip Girl done.

"I'm growing up," You sigh, shaking your head, wiping away tears as you climb into bed.

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**A\N: This was dark. This is also the last chapter I have written so far for this fic. There's not a whole heap of interest to have me writing any more drabbles.  
**


	9. Erik van der Woodsen

**Authors Note: **So I was re-reading over reviews for this and skimming through some chapters when inspiration hit me. I thought I was done with it, but I guess not. Also, this _isn't _meant to be realistic. Dan's the most realistic out of all of them, but it would of made more sense if none of them were her.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

::

**Erik van der Woodsen**

::

You're _bored_.

You're lacking attention.

Serena stealing the spotlight again, dancing in the shimmery light outside, laughing with her friends.

Leaving you _alone_.

You love her, of course you do.

(She's your sister, it's been forced upon you since _birth_.)

But sometimes she got on your nerves, sometimes her getting away with everything crazy got on your nerves.

You've always been mature, more so than Serena, more so than everyone in your class.

You're not a fool, not an idiot.

You know exactly what you're doing when you open up your laptop, connect to the internet and create a website.

You know exactly what you're doing when you create a post about something that happened to Serena last week.

You know exactly what you're doing when you steal Serena's phone and send the post to all of her contacts list.

It's not you sending it, it's this _Gossip Girl_.

You've always tried to be the good one, try your hardest, give everything your all.

And it's never enough, Serena shining in your spotlight, it's way you bond with Blair so much.

You didn't plan on Serena getting _more _attention.

You were expecting for her to be shunned away, to come crying in your arms, to need your help, for you to be the star.

But you can't stop now, not when all these rumors are flooding into your inbox.

Rumors about your sisters' best friends, acquaintances, classmates, other people that live on the Upper East Side.

You want to stop, you've been trying to look for a way out.

You move to London with Jenny, you've built a global empire, you can control it from _anywhere _in the world.

(And that scares you.)

You stop, after the accident. That gives you reason enough, but somebody saves it (Georgina) and then apparently someone else saves it (Serena) and then you steal it back because it's _yours _and you'll be damned if somebody else has it.

You can't go without it, it's like your lifeline.

Supporting you when you're weak, there for you when nobody else is.

Like nobody ever (really) has been.

But the truth comes tumbling out when Nate needs a story for the Spectator, and the identity of Gossip Girl would save him.

You need it all out in the open, a fresh, clean slate.

You need a way of _never _going back, of never falling back into it's trap of lies and deception and comfort.

You expected everyone to hate you, and nobody hates you.

Not a single one of them, because you're the _baby who tried to kill himself_.

And they're scared you'll do it again, aren't they?

No. You know they are, since you overheard Serena and Blair talking about it and all.

So why hasn't anybody helped you? Why hasn't anybody tried to save you?

You're still drowning, have always been drowning, will always be drowning.

"I can't believe it was you!" Jenny squeals, you flinch.

You had been rather harsh to Jenny but she's _happy_.

Because? You were the one pulling the strings, and she loves you.

You try and _forget forget forget_.

No need to dwell on what an awful human you are.


End file.
